Hitman
by afangirlsmangos
Summary: Clary Fray, a 23 year old orphan, lives in Brooklyn by herself. She's haunted with thoughts of the person who killed her parents, might come for her. Jace Herondale, a 24 year old trained-assassin, has a job to do.
1. Chapter 1

**Paranoia**

I look behind me. There's that feeling again, like someones watching me. I shake he feeling off. It's just me being paranoid. Ever since my mother and father were killed, I have been worried that they'll come back to finish off the job.

I'm at the train station waiting for my best friend, Simon, and his girlfriend Isabelle. We're going shopping, a rare thing for us to do, but I think it has something to do with my birthday. Simon hates shopping but he insisted on taking me.

Simon and Izzy have been together for a little over a year now, I hate no idea how someone like Simon got someone like Izzy. I love Simon, I really do, but he's so awkward. He's a nerd who loves video games and comics and Izzy's this gorgeous, bad-ass model. Still, they're perfect for each other.

"Clary!" I hear Izzy and Simon yell. I turn towards them but before I turn completely, I catch a quite sight of blonde hair ducking around a corner. I shrug it off and walk over to the couple.

"Hey guys! Sp, what do you have planned for me today." They both look at me with devilish smirks. _Oh shit._

Why would anyone want to kill this girl. She's so beautiful, with her long, red hair and green eyes. But it's not my job to google at whats on the out side. If someone wants her dead that much that they hire me, she must have done something _very_ wrong.

I've been following her around for the past 3 weeks now and there's nothing out of the usual. She does grocery shopping twice a week, she goes to the art supplies shop at least three times a week, and the rest of the time she spends in her tiny apartment. This is the first time I've seen her friends, she's had lots of people go to her apartment but they always come out with a covered canvas, they must be customers. But never has she had any friends over.

My _employer _told me to look out for anything _'different'_, whatever that means, but so far nothing has changed. I followed the three of them around all day but they were just shopping, nothing else, except Clarissa looked like she was ready to murder both of them for dragging her around the shopping centre all day.

When they got back to Brooklyn, they said their goodbyes, hugs all round, and went their separate ways. Clarissas apartment was only a few blocks from the station so she walked, with her presents in her hands, home.

"Engage _Stage 1_." I heard my boss, Hodge Starkweather, say in my ear.

'_Stage_ _1' : Earn the trust of the target._

It was a 3 block walk from the station to my place and the gifts Simon and Izzy bought me were getting heavier.

"Need some help?" I hear a voice ask me from behind. I turned and had a feeling of _deja vu. _He was absolutely beautiful. Golden hair, golden skin, golden-freaking-eyes! I must have be staring because he cleared his throat and said, "Uh, miss?"

_Miss?! _Well that smacked me out of my daze. Do I look like a middle-aged teacher?!

"Uh, no. I'm right, thanks." I go go to turn.

"Really, it's no problem short stuff." He says with a smirk.

_The nerve! _I'm practically fuming now. "What did you call me..?" I say in a deadly quiet voice.

"Sorry, Strawberry Shortcake, now are you going to let me help you?" He has a serious face on but I can see the smile on his lips.

"That's cute that you know the name of the most girliest character from the most girliest show. And no, I'm not." I huff and turn in the direction of my apartment. I hear him laugh and follow me. when he catches up he's still smirking.

"Well if you're not going to let me carry your things, I'm going to accompany you home. It's getting dark and Brooklyn can be a pretty dangerous place a night." He says with an unreadable gleam in his eyes.

"Really there's no need, I can.." I start but he cuts me off.

"Jace Wayland." He greets, holding out his hand.

I just keep walking, 1: I can't shake his hand and 2: I don't want too!

"That's nice," is all I answer with. My apartment is only a few meters away, _Thank God!_

"And you are..?" He urges.

"Strawberry Shortcake." I state in a matter-of-factly and turned into my building. "Well this has been _great," _I say sarcastically, "But I must bid you farewell, for forever I hope, and good night." I start walking up the stairs and, of-freaking-course, he follows. "Have you forgotten anything?" I'm almost a blowing capacity.

"No." He says simply, shaking his head.

"Then what do you want?!" I raise my voice which earns me a bang from the apartment above and a muffled "_Shut up!". _I'm now giving him my best death stare I can conjure up.

"Nothing, I live here." He says pointing to the door we've stopped in front of.

You have got to be _fucking kidding me! _"Well that's just _fucking_ super, isn't it?" I wished/yell to myself.

"Gasp," he says, covering his heart, judging he has one, acting disgusted "Potty mouth!"

I groan and walk the rest of the way by myself. The elevator was out of order so I had to walk 4 flights of stairs to my apartment on the top floor. When I reached my door, I put half of my gifts down so I could have a free hand to unlock the door. Once inside, I dumped my bags on the kitchen bench, went to my room and threw myself on my bed and screamed into my pillow.

I watched her as she clambered up the stairs. As soon as I walked into my temporary home and closed the door, Hodge yells into my ear-piece, "What the hell was that?!"

"Me, earning the trust of Clarissa. What did it look like?" I said, chuckling.

"It looked like you wanted to get kicked in your precious mangos!" I swear, this man doesn't have any other volume.

"Don't worry, Hodge. I've got this. I've handled a lot of girls in my life." I say in a very proud voice.

"Oh, I'm not _Casanova, _because if you make me look bad, I'll have your head! Report back to me in 2 days, a _full _report!" And the line went dead.

I huffed and went over to my bed. I look though Clarissas file, for the hundredth time, just incase I missed something.

**_Full Name - Clarissa Adele Morgenstern_**

**_Changed Name - Clarissa Fray_**

**_D.O.B - 28 August 1991, 23 years old_**

**_Occupation - Artist/Painter_**

**_Residence - Brooklyn, New York City_**

**_Background - _**

**_Was born and raised in Brooklyn, NYC. Mother - Jocelyn Fairchild/Morgenstern _****[Deceased] ****_. Father - Valentine Morgenstern _****[Deceased]****_ . Clarissa was raised mostly by Luke Garroway _****[Deceased] ****_until she was 18. She moved to…_**

****Blah blah blah, I know this already but there's nothing on _why _anyone wants her dead. I scan over Jocelyn, Valentine and Lukes reports. All the same. Signs of asphyxiation, struggle and stab wounds. The whole family must have been in on whatever she's done. I myself would have gone for a single shot to the head but this guy wanted to make a point. Now someone has hired me to finish the job and as soon as I get the call, I can't hesitate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Drinks?**

_There's blood everywhere. It's on the bed, on the carpet.. soaking my mother and fathers clothes, coming out of their mouths. There's a man at the foot of the bed, something gleaming in his hand. It's a knife. I go to scream but he jumps forward and wraps his hands around my neck. I claw at his hands, my vision becoming bleary. He raises the knife and I close my eyes, waiting for what comes next. He slams it down into my lower stomach. I gasp for air, too numb to feel anything. He raises it again. Then, door bursts open and police officers race in. My attacker has already made it all the way to the window and jumps out into the night. Some of the officers chase after him and some stay assessing the scene. One of them has kneeled next to me and is pushing down on my wound. Everyone is yelling but I can't concentrate on anything, the world is slipping into darkness._

I wake up with a jolt, clutching my stomach. I'm sweating and my breathing is ragged. I pull my shirt up to look at the hideous scar. It's disgusting. 2 inches long and, even though I'm as pale as Casper, it stands out like a, well, like a jagged scar on a girl like me. Whenever I have this nightmare, well memory, it almost feels as if it's reopening. I hate it. It's a reminder of what happened that night 14 years ago.

I drag myself out of bed and shuffle towards the shower. I don't notice the drastic changing of the water temperature, due to me being behind on my bill. I think about the dream. I haven't had it for a long while now, at least five months. Why did I have it last night? What did I do differently before bed? Did I drink? No. Did I binge on lollies? Nope. What happened yesterday to bring on the memories..? Jace Wayland.

Just the thought of him makes me snap out of my trance and wince at the scorching water. I quickly hop out of the shower, shut the water off and walked back to my room.

Jace Wayland! That egotistical, self-absorbed, wanker! I've only met him once, and I already dislike him! And now this?! He's got to be the reason the dream came back, he was the only abnormal thing about yesterday.

I growl and try to find some casual clothes. I pulled on a pair of baggy track pants that I have to roll at the top and a singlet. I tied my hair up in a messy bun and headed for the door. Quickly shoving my bare feet in a pair of thongs, I bounded down the stairs to retrieve my mail. I was almost at the bottom but, me being the clumsy, awkward, un-co person I am, trip on my too-big-trackies and fall the rest of the way down. I brace myself for the impact… but it never comes. Instead, strong arms catch me right before I hit the ground. When I open my eyes I instantly cringe. Why, oh why? It's so goddamn cliche. The one person I wanted to see today just so happens to save me from breaking my neck. Oh, God. My whole life is a fucking cliche.

I try to wrestle out of his arms but he tightens them around me. I narrow my eyes at him. _Challenge accepted. _I kick out, hitting him in the shin. He winces slightly but doesn't loosen his grip. I kick out again but he whips his hand out and catches my ankle. "Now, now, now," he tuts, "Is that anyway to treat your saviour?"

I give a small laugh at the word and come back to reality. I really don't feel like doing this. "Can you please just let me go?" I say in a small voice.

Something flickers in his eyes but it doesn't register. He lets me get to my feet and as soon as I'm upright, I go back upstairs, forgetting about my mail. Once I'm in the safety of my apartment, I fall back on my door and cry.

Don't get me wrong, it's fun messing with Clarissa, but seeing her so broken up made me feel.. weird. Like I kinda felt responsible for how she was feeling. Because of my job, I have to know why she's feeling like this. So when she left two hours later, I snuck up to her apartment, broke in and did some digging. Starting in the living room, I looked through stacks of magazines, draws, art things, looked under the cushions but there was nothing out of place. Next the kitchen, looking through cupboards and draws. In the bin there was a broken wine glass covered in blood. I took a photo of the mess. There were two empty wine bottles on the bench. After the kitchen, I went to the bathroom. The was blood in the basin, some drops on the floor and the mirror was smashed. Taking more photos, I looked in the cabinet above the sink. I was genially shocked. There was an abundance of prescription drugs sorted neatly filling the tiny space. Drugs for sleeping, for staying awake, for headaches, for pain, anti-depressants, you name it. More photos.

Moving along to the bedroom. Looking everywhere but nothing else. I was doing another scope of the place, bugging it with cameras and microphones, when I heard the sound of keys jingling outside, then a "What the.." and the front door creaking. "Is someone in here?!" Clarissa shouted from the entrance. I heard her light foot falls coming straight towards her bedroom. I quickly hid in her closet, a little childish but it was my only hope of going unnoticed. Just as I closed myself in, the bedroom door swing open to reveal Clarissa holding a large frypan. _Classic. _I had to refrain myself from laughing at how cliche it was. She tiptoed over to her bed and looked under it. Not finding anything, she looked behind her curtains. Then, she turned towards the cupboard I was hiding in. _Shit! _I quickly tried to think up something I could to so she couldn't identify me. I grabbed a few of her tee-shirts, wrapping one around my face and hair and, as soon as she opened the door, I threw the rest of the shirts at her face, pushed her out of the way and ran.

I got back to my flat unseen. _Thank God_. That was close. Way to close.

_Just fucking great! _Today was already shit, I had that dream, ran into _Jace, _broke a wine glass while drinking myself into oblivion, cutting myself on the broken glass while trying to clean it up, got blood all over my bathroom, then I had to go and get my hand stitched up. And now this. I was being robbed. Just fucking great. I get up off the floor calmly, trying to keep myself together, then I saw all my clothes everywhere and lost it. I started crying. I cried and cried, my knees buckled and I fell, not bothering to catch myself. I was crying so hard it hurt. Why does this have to keep happening to me? Why does the universe hate me? Why can't I just.. disappear?

I watched her on the tiny screen of my computer. I was painful to see her so hurt. I don't know why her emotions were effecting me in such a dramatic way. She just looked so lost and alone. I couldn't bare to see her like this anymore. I got an idea. I went out to where the rows of mailboxes were, braking into Clarissas, thankful that she still hadn't checked it, and took only one of her letters, grabbing my own as well. I quickly climbed the stairs up to her apartment and knocked on her door. She opened it a minute later and shouting "one second!" and as soon as she saw me she shrank back in on herself. "Ahh, hi," seriously? I'm stuttering? Me? "Um, I found this in my mailbox." I said as I handed her the letter.

"Thanks." She says hesitantly and takes the letter. When she retrieves it, I notice the fresh stitches on the palm of her hand. "Well if that's all.." She says as she starts to close the door.

"Wait." I reach for the door without even thinking. "I just wanted to say I'm really sorry for yesterday, and this morning. You're.. different, compared to other girls." What the hell am I saying?!

"Ahh, thanks?" She look confused and unsure.

"A good different." I add quickly, "You're not, uh, um. Gahh! What I'm trying to say is, do you want to have a drink sometime, my treat, to say sorry." Jace what the fuck are you doing?!

She gives my the up-'n-down then looks me right in the eye, gives me a slight smile. "Sure."


End file.
